


Black Market

by glassonion_archivist



Category: Firefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-24
Updated: 2003-05-24
Packaged: 2019-06-19 10:44:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15508302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassonion_archivist/pseuds/glassonion_archivist
Summary: She counts herself lucky.





	Black Market

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Glass Onion](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Glass_Onion), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Glass Onion’s collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/glassonion/profile).

Black Market

## Black Market

### by s.a.

Date: Thursday, April 03, 2003 1:57 AM 
    
    
         Title: Black Market
         Author: s.a.
         Rating: PG13.
         Pairing: Nada.
         Fandom: Firefly.
         Disclaimer: I don't make up the 'verses, I just fuck with them.
         Spoilers: Nothing overmuch. It would help if you've watched
         the ten episodes that aired
         (grumblegrumbleFoxBastardsgrumble).
         Feedback: Always appreciated. email: 
         Distribution: HiTG, <http://hole.adamao.org> as well as list
         archives. Everyone else, just ask.
         Author's Notes: For Twi's person/gun/note/200words drabble
         challenge. And to Min, for making me do it.
         Summary: She counts herself lucky.
    

* * *

Zoe counts on both hands the number of times it has happened. An untraceable message on the cortex, leading her to a shabby motel room on an outlying planet with a name not worth remembering. She leaves them all behind when she does it, especially Mal, because she's afraid one day he'll get this bu dui idea too and she have to use all her fingers. 

She dumps the body in the incinerator and tosses the sheets and whatever else that's irreparably stained in afterwards. The gun is pocketed, to be resold on some backwater where they don't care about little things like serial numbers and licenses. 

The note is pocketed, to be carefully read and then placed away with the others resting watchfully in a small brown tin. 

The bodies she has seen and taken care of once had names; the signatures scribbled in despair at the bottom of the notes once had signifigance. They no longer do, and Zoe needs almost all of her fingers to mark the passing of each of her comrades--one every couple of months. Her heart grows harder and heavier with each senseless death, and the secret she is forced to bear, alone. 

* * *

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to s.a.


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